What She's Looking For
by SilentG
Summary: How do you know if you're Alex Eames's type? You do the thing you do best… you ask questions. One-shot Season 10 angsty WAFF with a happy ending. B/A. My response to a certain Tweet.


**Author:** SilentG  
><strong>Title:<strong> What She's Looking For  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> LO:CI  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> B/A  
><strong>Rating:<strong> K+  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> In the A/Ns only  
><strong>Archive:<strong> Anywhere – no need to ask – just attribute, and let me know if possible  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine  
><strong>Summary: <strong>How do you know if you're Alex Eames's type? You do the thing you do best… you ask questions. One-shot Season 10 angsty WAFF with a happy ending. B/A. My response to a certain Tweet.

**A/N 1:** This is my response to VDO's comment (last week via Twitter) that he doesn't think Goren is Eames's 'type'. It ended up a teensy bit angstier than I originally intended.

~.~.~.~.~

**WHAT SHE'S LOOKING FOR**

The case that had taken them upstate was over, and the ring he'd worn while they were undercover (Joe's, loaned to him by Eames) was sitting in the palm of his hand. Eames's matching ring, the one she'd worn for four years, was in the change tray, where she'd dropped it after yanking it off.

"Do you think you'd ever get married again?" The setup – the part he usually revelled in – had made him sad. They'd been recommended by Peter Lyons of all people, because Detective Lyons thought… or at least he told their superiors he thought… that they'd be convincing as a wholesome, low-key, upfront anathema to the fake, blustery, big-city types who'd made the upstate religious community shut up and shut down.

**o.o.o.o.o**

"_You should play it married," Lyons had mumbled, staring at the out-of-town Captain who'd come down to the city to meet them._

"_What?" Eames had exclaimed. "A married team? Wouldn't that make them suspicious?"_

"_Not at all, actually," the Captain had said. "These folks are very, erm,"_

"_Credulous," Bobby had interjected. "Just because they're protective of their privacy and their kin, doesn't mean they aren't innocent about the outside world. In their community, husbands and wives work together all the time." He turned to Eames, who was making a face at him, and glanced at their own Captain Hannah, who was shaking his head. "It would actually make us more credible. They wouldn't be able to understand an unrelated man and woman, married or not, working together out of town."_

…_And as usual, he'd been right. The community had taken to them straight away, which Eames had viewed cynically and Bobby with the suspicion that they were in the presence of uncommonly good judges of character. He'd felt their appraising eyes, roaming over Eames's modest clothing, his imposing size. As predicted, the rings had opened doors and mouths. Including the widower, who had confided in Bobby that he too had 'loved but one person his whole life', but had had her for his own for only a brief time. That he'd lost her so soon after marrying her wasn't the source of Bobby's sorrow… he wasn't actually sure what was. He only knew that he left the place questioning… many things, and he couldn't seem to keep quiet about it._

**o.o.o.o.o**

"I don't know…" Eames said, shrugging as she watched the road. "I suppose I don't specifically not want to, but there's no likely candidate in the offing at the moment." Bobby watched her carefully for any clue as to her frame of mind, any subtext attached to her words. He had a hard time not taking her dismissive conclusion as a barb, but maybe she was just hinting that she was single?

He resisted blurting that he could change her mind, and instead succumbed to the temptation to dig a little deeper. Was he just tormenting himself? What if her answers broke his heart? Dissolved the bubble of promise he'd been living in for so long? He tried to muster the energy to sound jovial. "What would make a guy a 'likely candidate'? Describe your type."

Eames touched the pendants at her throat and shifted a little in her seat. "Oh, this and that. Bobby, let's…" She trailed off, tossing her head and swallowing.

"This and that, like, what?" He pressed on, undeterred by her huffing and blustering. "No, I'm serious," he laughed, which was strange because he _really_ was serious. "Maybe I could help you look." He had no intention of doing any such thing. But maybe he could tease her into answering, if she thought he was just joking around.

**o.o.o.o.o**

_There had, surprisingly, been jokes and laughter around the family table where they'd dined every evening. He (and Eames too, he was certain) had been very conscious of the approving looks cast their way whenever Bobby had held a chair or a door for his 'wife', whenever she'd served him first or caught his napkin before it fell off his knee. The little courtesies that had been so in evidence amongst spouses in that town, and which – he realised – had always been there between him and Eames. Maybe that was what had made him sad._

**o.o.o.o.o**

"Well, I don't know if I have a type. I'm not a seventeen-year-old with a list of pros and cons; I hope I wouldn't disregard an eligible man for petty reasons." Bobby, watching her squint speculatively and purse her lips, wasn't sure whether to be buoyed or discouraged by her words. "I think there are a few… things… the absence of which would be pretty much deal breakers."

"Like?" He saw Eames frown at the crack in his voice when he asked the question.

She shrugged, glancing in the mirrors as they barrelled down the highway. "Like, he has to love New York." Lobbing him a soft one.

"Check."

"Huh?"

_Oops_! "I mean, yeah, of course. What else?"

"What do you mean 'of course'? Maybe I don't want to live in New York all my life." Her teasing tone made him smile.

"You don't?" He teased back.

"Oh, of course I do. But still…"

"No changing the subject."

**o.o.o.o.o**

_When the folks they were investigating didn't want to answer a question, they just turned their backs and walked away. Bobby had wondered at the quizzical look Eames had given him the first time it'd happened, but then he realised… it was exactly like what he was accustomed to doing with questions he didn't want to answer._

"_Sorry," he'd mumbled sheepishly. Her answering glance told him she knew exactly what he was apologizing for._

"_It's OK," she'd shrugged. He made a note to himself to work on that._

_After spending the day with some of the women, Eames had confirmed what the husband had told Bobby… that their particular path to marital bliss had had numerous roadblocks. The victim had turned him down several times before agreeing to marry him, and when she finally did, things hadn't all been rosy. "No-one would go into specifics," she said, "But I gathered that she had a reason to fear conjugal intimacy."_

"_Was your marriage consummated?" Bobby had asked the husband later. The man had just turned his back._

"_Because, chaste love between two people of pure motive is beautiful, but, um, the – intimacy – of the marriage bed is what makes marital love the most exalted, right?" Bobby found himself choking up a little at his own words. He watched as the widower covered his face. "Were you able to… share that exalted love… with your wife?"_

"_Yes," the man said, nodding. "Eventually."_

"_But, it wasn't easy for her." The widower shook his head. "Did she ever tell you why?"_

**o.o.o.o.o**

"What was the question again?"

"Your type. What are the dealbreakers?"

Eames leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath. She seemed to be relaxing… good. She'd answer more truthfully if she were having fun. When Eames smiled, he smiled with her. "Well, kind of obvious, but… he has to not have… a problem, with the fact that I'm a cop. And that my best friend's a man. Who I spend sixty hours a week with."

"Your, uh, best friend, huh?"

"Oh c'mon. Like that's news to you."

Bobby laughed, but his voice sounded hollow even to his own ears. "OK. Anything else? What about the usual stuff?"

She grimaced. "You mean like trustworthy, honest and not a game player?" She asked in a singsong voice. "Lots of men _seem_ like that at first. It takes years to know for sure."

"It does indeed." He'd entered this conversation believing he was trustworthy, honest and not a game player… but all of a sudden he was afraid that maybe she thought differently. Would it help him that she'd known him for years, or…

**o.o.o.o.o**

_The husband's answer had led straight back to the men in her family, and they'd finally settled on her brother. A man who was cognizant of the many barriers he'd placed in the way of his sister finding happiness with someone who would love and protect her._

_He hadn't killed her, but his remorseful breakdown and confession had told them who had… _

"_I guess the moral of this story is, you can't escape your past," Eames had muttered as they tromped to the SUV after the arrest. "You manage to survive your brother molesting you, then his wife figures out what he did and kills you for deflowering him before his wedding day."_

_Maybe that was it. For every simple, wholesome union, there was at least one where the very act of marriage set up an untenable set of circumstances._

"_Which is the bigger problem, do you think," he said hesitantly, "Sex or marriage?"_

_Her answer cheered him slightly. "Neither. The problem is and always has been, people." Only slightly._

**o.o.o.o.o**

"But you're overlooking the most important thing of all." Up until now, it had just been a conversation after a strange, draining case. The moment he answered the question she would inevitably ask next, nothing would ever be the same. He could still back out…

"And that is?" Nope, too late.

"He has to – love you, more than anything. And think that, you're the best." It was no more than she deserved. The question was, did she want it? From him?

"That's a tall order, Bobby," she whispered.

"I dunno. In fact, I think I know someone who pretty much fits the bill." Alex's breath quickened, and Bobby's gaze dropped down to the pendants rising and falling, then down to the ring he still held in his hand, then back up to her face.

She sat silently, breathing hard and staring forward, until she pulled them over at a rest stop and covered her face with her hands.

"This assignment was… really… hard," she mumbled. "I think that we're just really… wrung out. From the close quarters, and the scrutiny, and the pretending…"

"I disagree," he argued. "I mean yeah, it was hard, but hard because of the honesty, and the intimacy, and the… it was hard, but there was no pretending. We were able to do it because we _weren't_ pretending."

"Bobby, we…" Eames abruptly threw up her hands and jumped out of the SUV. After watching her pacing across the gravel for a few seconds, he got out as well and met her around the back. He cornered her against the dusty hard top and put his hands on either side of her head.

"This is – what you want?" She asked.

"I want – well, I think, that if you're looking for someone, who – loves – you," he choked a little on the words, "And who…" he looked away and wiped his eyes… this was so hard… "Would try, would really try, to –" he couldn't finish the sentence, he didn't even know what he was saying any more. He felt like an idiot for running out of words, furious at himself for blowing it. "You should look right in front of you, Eames. Alex. If you're not…"

He trailed off because Alex was staring up at him with a thoughtful expression and her arms crossed. He racked his brain for something he could say that would sway her, but came up empty. Oh why had he done this? Stupid, stupid.

Alex looked down at his feet and nodded. "OK," she said.

"Oh – OK?" He repeated, gaping at her.

She looked back up at him and continued nodding. "Yeah. OK." Then she _bounced_ up and, lightning-fast, planted two quick kisses on his lips. She stood on tiptoe for a beat, looking into his eyes. Apparently she liked what she saw – or felt – because she continued. "Yeah. I think we can make this work." Then she ducked under his arm and marched back to the driver's side door.

"By the way Bobby," she said as they pulled out of the rest stop, "Is your timing always going to suck so hard?"

"Sometimes," he replied absently. His lips still tingled from when she'd kissed him. _She'd kissed him_. And she'd said yes! Maybe she had been looking after all.

~.~.~.~.~

**A/N 2: **I had an idea for a romantic casefile, where G and E go undercover as a married couple in a religious community, and I thought maybe after I finish my posted WIPs and the six or so multi-chapter fics I haven't published yet, I might write it. I thought that in the meantime, I'd write the good part. Then I ended up writing the whole thing, but in an abbreviated form. Hope it works! Please let me know!

WORDS: 2317 UPLOADED Tuesday, May 24, 2011


End file.
